i dragged myself out of bed for work this morning and don’t even know how i got ready. i managed to put on a creased shirt which has been sitting in a pile in the corner of my room for the past couple of weeks, and a pair of black, unwashed jeans with food stains from my last binge and purge.

perhaps i looked as horrid as i felt, but i doubt it. i didn’t have it in me this morning to even try to give a shit.

i drove most of the way to work feeling numb. numbness isn’t something i’ve experienced (or at least not to this degree) in about a year so to be numb again was surreal.

i barely slept last night because i couldn’t stop the tears from flooding. because of everything. because i’ve worked so hard and made so much progress in the past year, but in the end it just doesn’t matter enough to me for me to want to go on. and because the only belonging i’ve ever felt has come from the act of self-destruction.

i stopped for coffee. i waited for my order for way too long. when i finally got it, i walked out the door and took a sip only to realise that the girl who took my order messed it up.